Scarred, Damaged and Perfect
by CarolPTWD
Summary: (Pre-Apocalypse) She was scarred and damaged, dependent on him. What she'd imagined would be the perfect marriage, perfect life, true love was the complete opposite. She was worthless, nothing, until she walked out one night... I will try to get the next chapter up soon. Credit to @DarylDixonRP for the story idea from our RP.
1. I ain't seen you 'round before

Carol had left the house, walked out. She'd had enough for tonight. She'd had enough of Ed laying his hand on her, causing her soft, pale skin to blacken and blue, tearing into it with whatever word he wanted to scar her with next. Writing words on her, in her mind, abusing her. She'd gotten past the amount that she could just stand, and take for one night. When she'd left the house, she hadn't planned where she was going, or when she'd be back, she just let her feet carry her until she found herself in a quiet, but respectable bar a few blocks away. She just wanted to sit, be a normal twenty seven year old for once. She sat at a table by herself, gazing round at all the 'normal' people around her, the ones who all had someone who loved them, and only made them feel safe when they touched them, not pain. Every time one of them looked at her, she could feel the embarrassment burning inside her, as if they could see all the marks under her clothes, all the labels in her mind that he had given to her.

One man seemed to be staring directly at her, his eyes slightly narrowed, a puzzled expression on his face as if he was trying to read her, not necessarily judge her. She glanced at him a few times, her eyebrows raised worriedly. She couldn't deny that she felt uncomfortable in this place, but it was better than being at the place she called home. After a while, the man seemed to be getting closer, awkwardly, as if he was threatened by her. He finally came to sit down opposite her at the table, still looking at her with his puzzled expression. She hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Did- did you want something?" She asked quietly, not meaning to trip over her words.

"Just though' ya looked lonely, ya seem upset an'..." he mumbled before shrugging, looking past her slightly, as if he was scared to look her in the eye.

She tilted her head slightly as he spoke, studying him, trying to figure out what kind of man he was. She wasn't stupid and she knew when she was getting into trouble. But he seemed different, he seemed scared, shy, awkward. Almost childlike. She saw some of herself in him, somehow, she couldn't quite figure out why.

"Uhm... thanks, I-I guess." She said quietly again, rubbing her arm slightly, feeling awkward, and flinching slightly as her hand ran over a fresh bruise.

"You really don't have to sit with me though..." She explained, she didn't want him wasting his time on her.

"I know I don', but I am. I ain't seen ya 'round here before, ya look n-nice an' I wanted to make sure yer okay." He mumbled awkwardly again, as if he was confused between wanting to speak to her, being scared, and feeling pressured to do so, for some reason.

She gave him a small, sort of, sad smile, before introducing herself. "I'm Carol." She said simply, the man seemed nice enough, just terrified, she found it almost endearing and couldn't bring herself to reject him completely.

"'m Daryl" He said shortly, quietly, giving her a small half smile in return.


	2. Nothing has to happen

The pair spent a while, shortly conversing, and slowly becoming more and more comfortable in each other's company. Carol began to open up more, be less defensive, and Daryl began to let his eyes meet hers for split seconds at a time, talking a little more, bit by bit.

"Ya want 'nother drink?" He asked her in his low, gruff voice. She shot him another small smile, slightly brighter this time and shook her head, she wasn't a drinker and she felt that if she were to drink any more, she'd be quite a mess. "Am gonna go fer a smoke then" He mumbled and nodded, keeping his eyes on her as he stood up. "Yer wanna come? Yer don' have ta have one." He didn't really know why he was asking, he just found himself drawn to the woman. She seemed so nice... so caring and soft, but something was wrong, she looked like she had her demons, they were written all over her face. He was intrigued, he wanted to know her, he wanted to see her smile.

She nodded and stood up with him, after pondering his offer for a moment. She would just end up sitting by herself anyway, and he seemed nice. Admittedly, she tried to distance herself from men, ever since Ed was... well, Ed, but he seemed harmless, innocent, and hurt. She could recognise the hurt in his eyes, it almost matched the hurt she'd seen in her own eyes, all those times she'd looked at herself in the mirror, with all the cuts and bruises and blood.

- - - Scarred, Damaged and Perfect - - -

He finished up his cigarette and stubbed it out on the wall before flicking it away. "Where are ya planning on going tonight then?" He asked, studying her carefully, still a little hesitant. "Ya need me to walk ya home?"

She stalled for a moment, she hadn't really planned what she was going to do... She could go home, but, she knew exactly who and what would be waiting for her when she got back. "I- I erm, I don't know..." She mumbled nervously, pushing her hair behind her ear. She forgot about her wedding ring, it caught the moonlight as she moved her hand up, and consequently caught his eye. He narrowed his eyes slightly, feeling his stomach drop slightly. "Wont yer husband be waitin'?" He mumbled disappointedly, gesturing to her ring finger.

_How did he know about him?_ She frowned to herself slightly, before following his gaze to her ring, wishing she'd taken it off before she left the house. "I..." she cut herself off. She couldn't just tell him, blurt out how he beat her every time she stepped out of line. "Things are bad at home." She decided to state, simply, looking down at her feet, sensing his disappointment.

"'M sorry" He mumbled, though she hadn't said much, he could see the hurt in her face, the anger at the mention of her husband. "Ya can come stay at mine tonight, if ya want? Nothin' has ta happen." He offered, there was more to this woman than he thought, and she seemed like she really didn't want to go home. She was pretty, _very_ pretty. And when he'd first saw her in that bar, sitting all alone, he was sure that she was waiting for someone, or that some other, better-looking, higher-class guy would snap her up, whisk her away and show her the night of her life. When he saw no one speaking to her, he'd slowly built up the confidence to say hi to her. He had no intentions of taking her back to his house, not for anything, never-mind to show her a good time. However, now that he could see that she was hurting, that she'd obviously come out to this unfamiliar place to get away from whatever was burdening her, he couldn't just leave her alone, and he didn't want her to think he was after just one thing.

Again, she spent a moment thinking over his offer, he really didn't seem like the type who would just be taking advantage of her, although, when she'd left the house tonight, being taken advantage would have been better than being alone in a marriage for another night. She finally made up her mind. She knew that when she got home tomorrow, she'd be in for it with Ed. He'd be furious. He wouldn't let her get away with that. But she just wanted to spend one night being Carol, well, trying to be the old Carol she used to be, not the one who was too afraid to say anything in case it would earn her the sting of a back hand against her cheek or the panic that came with being winded by numerous blows to the stomach. She gave him another one of her small smiles and nodded. "Nothing has to happen." She agreed with him, but when she thought about it, looking at the rough, blue eyed, yet beautiful and perfect man in front of her, she really wouldn't mind.

He walked around to the front of the pub, with her following closely behind him, almost bumping into him when he stopped at his bike. He turned to her and smirked a little "Hope ya don' mind... s'all I got" he mumbled, studying her as her eyes widened in shock at the bike, she probably hadn't ridden a motorcycle before, which, of course she hadn't. "Don' worry, s'long as ya hold on, yer'll be safe" he reassured her.

She took a deep breath and gave him a small nod, as he got on the bike, before carefully, nervously getting on behind him and awkwardly putting her hands on his hips. He couldn't deny that he felt both uncomfortable but comfortable with the contact. He gave himself a few moments to adjust. Usually when someone lay their hands on him it wasn't in a loving way, not even an awkward way. It was usually to tell him how useless he was, how worthless he was and that he'd never amount to anything. "Ya might want to hold on a little tighter." He warned her, causing her to wrap her arms around his waist, again awkwardly, and to which they both seemed to tense up. Both not knowing that they shared the same pain from contact, but both finding some comfort in the fact that contact could be made without inflicting pain.

When he felt that she'd gotten herself comfortable and prepared, he started the bike off, and drove off down the road, his eyes fixed in front of him. She couldn't help but smile widely. The wind was blowing her curly, red, hair in every direction, she probably looked ridiculous, but she felt alive, scared, but alive. The good kind of scared when your heart is racing and your full of adrenaline and excitement, not the kind when you're preparing yourself for the next wound or injury you're about to receive.

When they arrived at his home, she took no notice of the fact that it looked worn down, rough. He was worried that she would be judging him, but the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. He stepped off the bike before reaching his hand out to help her off, both of them seeming coy and awkward at the action. Once she was off he began to walk to the front door, rummaging in his pocket to find his keys, before jamming it in the somewhat broken keyhole and opening the door. He held it open, allowing her to step in, praying that she wouldn't be judging the messy appearance of his home. But again, his worries were unneeded as all she could think about was how nice it was to step into a man's home and not be scared of him.


End file.
